


Reach for Me

by keirajo



Series: The Love of Romance [5]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Gentleness, Kindness, Love, M/M, Shower Sex, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 14:03:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17489390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keirajo/pseuds/keirajo
Summary: Megatron and Rodimus finally hit a very large milestone achievement in their growing relationship.





	Reach for Me

**Author's Note:**

> **Thus my vacation ends and my 'fic swarming will end and it'll go back to every week or couple weeks that things get done.**
> 
> I don't wanna go back to work tomorrow............. *cries*

**_ Reach for Me _ **

 

 

            As long as Rodimus went out to places with Megatron, he could manage to feel a bit more comfortable and not get riled up or agitated from an emotional overflow.   The flame-colored mech hadn’t even asked for it, but apparently his older companion had found a way to just wrap a bit of his own EM field around Rodimus to dampen the sensors of his dermal sensor net to the majority of emotions all around them.   Of course, _that_ only worked in Megatron’s actual physical presence—anywhere else, Rodimus was on his own and had to deal with the emotional flow around him by himself.

            _Except in the medi-bay._

            Rodimus felt pretty comfortable in the medi-bay.   He’d been going down there on a daily basis the past couple weeks since speaking with First Aid, after he’d get off-shift and Megatron was on-shift.   The more he got to know First Aid, the more he liked the small medic.   He also got to know Velocity a bit more and Nautica, as well—as Nautica enjoyed hanging around with Velocity when the green-and-white femme wasn’t busy with any medical cases, and the purple femme didn’t have a need to be in the engine room specifically.   Nautica didn’t even pry and ask why Rodimus was hanging around the medi-bay of all places, she just greeted him kindly and cheerfully.

            “………….and, _so!_    This is how we figured out the way to boost the efficiency of a mech or femme’s personal self-repair nanites,” First Aid said excitedly, making drawings on his large datascreen pad that was mounted on the wall.

            “Gosh, historical stuff is _always_ so fascinating!”  Nautica gushed.  “It really does make you wonder just how our ancestors survived in such a primitive era, before all the technology we have today.”

            As soon as Nautica realized that First Aid was kinda-sorta teaching “ _classes_ ” to Rodimus, she asked to participate every time they were both in the medi-bay together.   At first, Rodimus was a little anxious, but he eventually got used to Nautica’s field and her emotional state.......and then he was okay with it.   He wasn’t even sure how long it was before he was okay with it.

            “But, _um_ , can you transfer other’s nanites into a different mech or femme?   It seems that something like this could happen because of Spark-type transfusions,” Rodimus asked, tilting his head, curiously.

            “ _Excellent!   Yes!_ ”  First Aid answered enthusiastically, tapping his large stylus in the palm of his opposite servo.   “Like any kind of transfusion, there is always a compatibility and adaptability factor.   If Spark-types are compatible enough for the transfusion, it means that self-repair nanites that might transfer in the transfusion have the potential of adaptability in the _new_ system!”

            Just as Rodimus was about to ask another question about that, the medi-bay doors slid open and he felt a familiar presence.   It was time for him to go, he _wasn’t_ sticking around while Drift hung out with Ratchet here—even though they’d be in Ratchet’s office, he could _still_ feel their fields.   Bright and brilliant and _full of love_ …………..it hurt him far too much to remain here any longer.

            “Thanks for today’s class, First Aid—I’ll be back again some other time,” Rodimus said, hopping to his pedes and waving at the ship’s CMO with a grin on his faceplate.   He nodded at Nautica and gave Drift a little wave as he dashed out of the medi-bay.

            That left Drift standing there awkwardly and the swordsmech sighed deeply, going back to Ratchet’s office.   “Hey, you,” the grey-and-white mech chuckled, leaning down and wrapping his arms around the former ship’s CMO, snuggling against the familiar back and shoulders.   “Rodimus just ran out awkwardly again.   Do you think he’s _ever_ going to talk to me at all?”  Drift murmured.

            “You doing stuff _like this_ isn’t going to help **_that_** situation,” Ratchet grunted, but reached up to pat the side of Drift’s helm.   “Look, if you can’t bring your field in from that brilliant torch of love that you’re burning—he’s _never_ going to be able to approach you comfortably.”

            “Are you sure it’s _just_ that?”  Drift asked, straightening up and then dragging a chair over to sit down in front of his lover.

            “Yep,” Ratchet answered, clonking his datapad on top of his lover’s helm.  “He said to give him time, but you also need to hold in some of that excessive field emotion you’re projecting everywhere every single day.  I know you’re happy, but you _need_ to pull that field in, idiot.   You are a complete aft, because he liked you and you never told him you were already in a relationship—you dragged him along like the stupid little brat you are.”

            Ratchet didn’t truly mean his words in a cruel or condescending way and Drift knew that.

            “I didn’t mean to,” Drift said, softly, thoroughly admonished by his lover’s words.

            “I honestly can’t believe you just didn’t understand that your touchy-feely servos weren’t a seduction to Rodimus, because he truly thought you were interested in him,” the old medic sighed deeply.   “Drift, he _does_ want to be friends with you again—you have no idea _how badly_ he wants that.   But as long as you’re projecting how passionately in love you are, he cannot even get close to you.   I thought you were a master of the EM field— _so, get that under control_!”  Ratchet snapped, bonking Drift on the helm again with his datapad.

            “But you finally opened up and made our relationship public…………I’m _so happy_ , Ratty,” Drift gushed, his field just immediately beginning to leak with his emotions.

            “ _Gah_ , don’t give me a silly pet name, _you moron_!”   This time Ratchet’s fist thumped lightly on his younger lover’s helm.  “This is _exactly_ what I mean—look at how you’re leaking everywhere.   Rodimus doesn’t………” Ratchet began, but he instantly caught himself before he started talking about the flame-colored mech’s untamed dermal sensor net.  He facepalmed himself and shook his head, which had Drift give him a look of puzzlement.   “ _Look_.   Rodimus is emotionally sensitive, okay?   _I know that you know this!_    Even as you admonished him about repainting his body in those Spectralist colors as an emotional issue, I _know_ you’re aware that his emotions run hot and intense.   But he cares a lot about people and he’s a bit sensitive to the emotions around him, too……..why do you think Getaway’s mutiny riled him up so badly?”

            “But I’m **_happy_** , Ratchet— _I really am!_    And so many others here are happy, too!   Are you saying we _shouldn’t_ be happy?”  He asked as his older lover rose to his pedes and went to put away the datapad he had been reviewing.

            “We can be happy without projecting our fields into everybody else’s personal fields,” Ratchet sighed.   As Drift said the statement that he did, he knew that the emotional state of the crew was generally positive and happy—and while Rodimus was definitely glad for that, too much happiness overloading his sensors would soon drive him into another epic tantrum at this point.  “At least Megatron can take care of Rodimus—I just hope he takes my advice on the future.”

            “Yeah, there’s _that_.   Are you sure that’s good for Rodimus?”  Drift asked, looking at Ratchet seriously.  “I’m not saying I want to ruin anyone’s happiness and say they can’t make the choice they want.   And I’m _not_ saying that I don’t trust Megatron.   _But_ ………….” the swordsmech trailed off.

            “ _Uh-hunh_.   You’re _not_ saying you don’t trust Megatron?   It sounds very much like you’re saying you _don’t_ trust Megatron at all,” Ratchet groaned, turning back to his younger lover.

            “I don’t mean it in the way _you’re thinking_!   I _know_ he wants to change—like I did!   And he wants everyone to believe in him, just like I did………….but I mean, Megatron’s got some pretty dark desires for a mech.   I _know_ where his tastes ran back in the Decepticons,” Drift protested, getting to his pedes with a sense of anxiety rippling in his field.   “Peoples’ tastes in the berth don’t often change as easily as their personalities.”

            “And the thing you need to remember is that Megatron’s had _another eight centuries_ to change those _‘tastes’_ of his.   He’s said to me that he had a number of lovers on the Functionist Cybertron, plus he’s finally free of the mnemosurgical alterations and what Shockwave did to him,” Ratchet responded.   He walked over and gave Drift a hug, bringing their helms together in a gentle touch of fondness.   “Loving Rodimus may be what he needs to finally drive the darkness out of the corners of his Spark.  And for Rodimus……….having someone who actually understands him may be exactly what he needs, so that he can finally heal all the wounds in his own Spark.”

            “Okay,” Drift murmured, letting Ratchet’s even field and rough voice soothe him.  “I’ll try to do some meditations to get my field under control.   I’ll try _very hard_ to do that.”

            “Good,” Ratchet answered, pulling away and giving the swordsmech a fond smile.   “If you can hang around Rodimus with a fairly neutral field, he’ll approach you and try to reforge your friendship soon enough.   Now, if you’re going to be a pest around here—then help me file some things.”

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Rodimus came out of recharge with a start.   He wasn’t even certain why he woke up and all he could feel was his fuel pump pulsing hard and his Spark spinning so rapidly in its casing that he thought it might break out of his chest.   That was when he realized he was alone in the berth— _where_ had Megatron gone?  The flame-colored mech sat up sharply and patted the empty space beside him………it was cool, so Megatron had been gone a little while.

            _‘Don’t panic.  It was probably a command issue.   He was being nice and not waking me up,’_ Rodimus thought, hopping down off the berth and pacing the room a little bit.

            That was when he heard some voices outside the door of his hab suite.

            The flame-colored mech crept closer to the door so that he could try to hear the voices better.   They were speaking too softly for him to be able to figure out who they were and what they were talking about, but he felt Megatron’s familiar field on the other side of the door—he was still close enough to do that dampening thing around Rodimus’ dermal sensor net.   He didn’t get much of a feel of the other person’s field out there in the corridor, but he _knew_ it wasn’t Ultra Magnus’—he would’ve recognized Magnus right away!

            Rodimus opened the door and peeked out.  **_Oh_**.   _Thunderclash_.   That would be why he didn’t recognize the other field.   Rodimus thought about the duty roster and it was about the time for Thunderclash to have a shift of command on the bridge, so there must have been something that came up that the legendary Autobot didn’t want to bother with an announcement communique for.   But why wouldn’t he have notified Rodimus, too—he and Megatron were still “ _co-captains_ ”, weren’t they?   He didn’t want to make a big deal about it, but Rodimus was still supposed to have _some sort of leadership role_ on this ship!

            “Is everything okay?”  Rodimus asked, approaching the two taller and bulkier mechs quietly.

            “It seems we’ve run into a hostile region,” Thunderclash responded, glancing down at Rodimus.  “A ship we passed right as we entered this system gave us a warning.   The system has five planets and four of them are at war with each other—the fifth planet is uninhabited.”

            “You were on rest-shift when I talked about this with Ultra Magnus, we thought that we might be able to still get through the system by skirting the planets,” Megatron answered.  Then the tall grey mech shook his head sadly.  “It looks like we won’t be able to get through the system and a warship spotted us,” he continued.   “They’ve been asking us to surrender and prepare to be boarded.”

            “ _Uh_ , **_hell no_** — _right_?”  Rodimus groaned.

            “ _Exactly_ ,” Megatron chuckled, reaching down to pat the familiar red helm.   “However, our unfamiliarity with this universe means we can’t quantum jump forwards without knowing whether we’ll slam into a planet—and if we quantum jump to coordinates we’ve already mapped, we’ll need to plot a new path back through everything and see if we can avoid this system the next time when we’re close to this way.”

            “Well, as we said before……….we have all the time we want to explore, right?   Let’s go back to a place we’ve charted and start back from there,” Rodimus answered, looking up at the two taller mechs.

            “ _Indeed_ ,” Thunderclash chuckled.   “I merely came to inform Megatron that’s what we were going to do.   But he wanted to find out where we jumped back to and work with navigation to plot a new course to try and avoid this system.   It’s unnecessary, but he has this tendency to work too hard to make up for his _past evil deeds_ ,” the old hero laughed softly.

            Even though Thunderclash had been in on the mutiny, he regretted it once he saw Getaway’s true plans.   Of course, that got him in trouble and placed into a stasis status.   In the end, he realized that he didn’t have to like Megatron………….but he could accept him being here and to respect him.   After the fight with the Functionists and everything, he saw Megatron’s return and the way he’d helped the crew.   That was when Thunderclash realized that Megatron truly had changed—and what kind of an Autobot would “ _The Great Thunderclash_ ” be if he **_didn’t_** give Megatron a second chance?

            That was something important that the Autobots stood for, even if a few particular Autobots pretended to forget about that particular creed.

            Rodimus suddenly reached up and slapped Megatron on the back of the neck.   “ _You’re_ on rest-shift, you don’t get to go to work right now.   _My shift_ is next, so if anyone goes up to work with navigation it would be me—and, right now, I’m saying Thunderclash can handle it himself, Megs,” the flame-colored mech said, firmly.

            Megatron looked about to protest, but saw how serious Rodimus was about the situation and if the old warlord even tried to report to the bridge, the flame-colored mech would follow him and cling to him on the bridge.  And that would lead to a lot more gossip about their relationship than was already circulating around on the _Lost Light_.

            “Very well.   I appreciate the status update and look forward to the report when I’m back on-shift,” Megatron responded.

            “I appreciate your faith, captains……….. _rest well_ ,” Thunderclash chuckled, smiling at them, before he turned around and walked back towards the bridge.

            “C’mon, you,” Rodimus chided of his older lover with a pout, grabbing Megatron’s arm and dragging them both back into his hab suite.

            “I appreciate you being so kind Rodimus, but I don’t need long rest-cycles anymore.  My systems are……..” Megatron began, only to be silenced by the flame-colored mech dragging his head down for a kiss.

            _All right, then._    This wasn’t so bad of an alternative after all.

            Megatron gently braced his large servos on Rodimus’ hips and tilted his head so he could deepen the kiss.  He swiped his glossa all along the inside of the younger mech’s mouth and was rewarded with pleasurable moaning and a light “ _need_ ” seeping into the smaller mech’s EM field.   The older mech began to wonder just _how far_ he could go now—just how far Rodimus would **_let_** him go………..?

            The bulky grey mech gently slid one of his servos from the flame-colored mech’s hips up the slender backstrut, while the other drifted down to cover the small aft.   Megatron pulled away from Rodimus’ lips to look into the luminescent blue optics.   The look on the younger mech’s faceplate was full of wanting and need.   Maybe it _finally was_ the right moment for this………?   Megatron dove in to press his lips harder against Rodimus’ waiting ones, thrusting and swiping his glossa deeply into the younger mech’s mouth.  Oral fluids began leaking from the corners of both their mouths as glossa slid against one another in teasing, taunting caresses.

 

            **/wantwantwantwantwantNEED\**

            The former Decepticon felt Rodimus’ field so desperately swirling out around him, seeking the same kinds of emotions from his.  He remembered that the flame-colored mech said that when they finally got around to interfacing—he _wanted_ Megatron to open up his field so that the truth of their emotions could meet each other.   So, the tall grey mech slowly let his EM field ripple out with all of the desire and longing and desperation he had for wanting the younger mech right here in his arms.

            Their fields swirled and tangled, as Megatron kept right on kissing Rodimus—savoring every taste and feel of their glossa and oral fluids mixing and swirling about in their mouths.   The older mech was almost embarrassed when it was his very own array paneling that snapped open first, his large spike pressurizing between their two bodies.

            Rodimus chuckled lightly.   “ ** _Wow_**.   _You_!”  He murmured, glancing down at Megatron’s rigid black spike against his abdomen.

            “So much for _me_ being the mature one here,” Megatron chuckled softly.  “My apologies, but I suppose I should ask if we’re going to go any further now—or should I just head for the washrack before I have to clean up a mess?”  He asked, smiling down at Rodimus.

            “ _Um_.   I……….” the flame-colored mech whispered, reaching up to rub the back of his neck.   “I know that my body kinda wants it too, but I’m not sure I’m mentally ready yet.  _Or something_.”

            “Let’s try a compromise, if you’re game……?”  Megatron said, taking Rodimus’ servo and drawing them towards the washrack.

            “ ** _Uh_**.   _Compromise_.   Is this where we just play with each other’s equipment and there’s no actual interfacing?”  The flame-colored mech asked, anxiety beginning to ripple out into his field, cutting through the need and want a bit raggedly.

            “I know you have some experience, as unpleasant as it may have been for you in the past—you’ve surely done it in the washrack before, have you not?”  Megatron asked, still smiling at Rodimus and still keeping his field open and swirling around Rodimus’.

            “ _Oh_.  Standing and stuff— _yeah_ , I’ve done that,” the younger mech answered, his faceplate tinting a bright pink under the blue glass of his optics.

            Megatron turned on the shower to a light, mist-style setting.  “We won’t merge bodies— _we won’t fully interface_ —but we’ll enjoy the charms of each other’s frames,” the bulky grey mech answered.

            “How come you don’t open your valve panel?”  Rodimus asked, starting to get a general idea of what Megatron was getting at.

            “I’m not much of a valve mech—I _very much_ prefer my spike, but if you would really rather switch up our positions………?”  The former Decepticon Leader trailed off, looking down at Rodimus and giving his faceplate a brief rain of light kisses.

            “ _No!_   You don’t gotta—I’m a valve mech, but I like my spike to be out, too.   Maybe I’m a bit of both?  _Or maybe………?_ ”  Rodimus said, his voice a little louder and his words a spoken a bit faster with his nervousness.

            “You like the full range of touch,” Megatron said, warmth and tenderness in his vocalizer as he nuzzled the top of Rodimus’ red helm.

            “ _Yeah_.   I like being **_touched_**.  I like being touched more than the actual merging sometimes…………” the flame-colored mech trailed off, a bit wistfully.   Their frames were fully damp, covered in the misty precipitation from the showerhead now.  It made even Megatron’s dull greys shine brilliantly in the lights from the ceiling overhead.

            “ _That’s_ what we’re going to do.   We’re just going to touch and stimulate ourselves into overload,” the taller mech answered with fondness in his voice.  “Turn about and show me your cute aft and sexy backstrut,” he purred, drawing light fingers over the younger mech’s array paneling, which suddenly slid open at the unspoken invitation.

            Rodimus turned to the wall beneath the showerhead and planted his yellow servos firmly on the wall.  He widened the spread of his legs a little bit so he was standing firmly with his aft jutting out towards Megatron.   He felt that not all the dampness trickling down his thighs was from the condensation on his frame and he licked his lips nervously.

            “You really do have a nice-looking frame, Rodimus—it’s easy to see why you’ve had a lot of people who want to get in the berth with you.   I hope that _eventually_ we can do something proper and passionate in the berth, too, one day,” Megatron murmured, admiring the view for a few moments before he moved close and slid his spike along the damp folds of the younger mech’s valve.  He wouldn’t enter the frame beneath him, but he would let Rodimus’ valve feel the ridges and size of his spike with some very vigorous rubbing.

            Rodimus trembled at the sensation and he _almost_ begged for Megatron to stop teasing him, but he knew that interfacing right now wasn’t quite what he really wanted.   It wasn’t like he was dragging the older mech along and teasing him without giving him everything right now, but he just really wanted to find out if Megatron _wanted more_ than the merging of frames.  It was selfish, he knew it totally was, but he’d had enough of the ones who wanted to frag and made empty promises that they “ _conveniently forgot_ ” the next morning, after it was all over.

            “Think you can handle this?”  Megatron murmured, leaning forwards and whispering it in Rodimus’ audial.  He slowly rocked his hips, making his swollen spike slide and rub against the wet valve lips of the smaller mech beneath him.   The flame-colored mech didn’t answer him with words or sounds, but pushed his aft back against Megatron and his EM field swirled faster with thicker feelings of need and want around the both of them.

            The grey mech smiled and took the unspoken prompts as a “ _continue on_ ”, letting his own field show his true emotions and desires, catching and tangling with Rodimus’ field—just as the younger mech had asked for a couple weeks ago when the only spoke about a future possible interfacing.  He would give Rodimus _all of his honest feelings_ —even if some of those were very hot emotions of desire and passion and desperate wanting.   As he gently moved his hips, rubbing the length of his swollen black spike along the damp lips of the flame-colored mech’s valve, he began to think how good this really felt.  Maybe it wasn’t so bad to keep at building this relationship slowly, after all?

            Sure, it _might_ have been better to go all the way—to drive himself hard and with all abandon into that tight little valve of the mech beneath him—but Rodimus’ valve was dripping with lubricant, making his sliding against it almost frictionless and seemed to rile his deepest desires into a blazing inferno.   The older mech had a feeling it was Rodimus’ desperate want and longing that had his own charges scaling higher and higher, he’d never felt such a desperate and vivid need such as **_this_** before.   Megatron had never felt a longing fueled by love before.   So, _this_ was what love could do to an individual…………?   It could make even hot frame teasing and what was essentially a type of mutual masturbation lead to a satisfying overload—even when merged frames were not in the mix.

            “ _Mega………tron………feels……… **so good** …………_” Rodimus panted, his frame quaking and rocking against the bulkier grey mech’s.  “ _You’re………….the **field** ………….!_”  He sobbed, glancing over his shoulder and trying to get a look at Megatron’s faceplate—and was almost sent straight into overload as he saw how much Megatron wanted him right now.

            “I’ve got you, Rodimus.   _Reach for me_ , I won’t let you fall,” Megatron murmured, leaning forwards and skimming his lips on the sensitive edging of the yellow spoiler fins in front of him.   He reached around and let his right servo slide along the younger mech’s rigid spike.

            Rodimus began mewling softly, words abandoning him completely as his frame rocked back desperately against Megatron.   He loved the feel of the big servo around his spike, stroking it softly, and the teasing slide of the larger spike against his valve lips.   He also treasured the light nips of denta and caresses of a wet glossa against his spoiler    **_One day_** ………… _maybe even soon_ ………..he’d have that spike buried inside him again and it wouldn’t hurt so much then.   He’d be _ready_ for it then, he’d be ready to take **_everything_** Megatron had to give him!   He just hoped that right now, as close as he was to overloading, that Megatron felt the very same rush to overload that **_he_** was feeling.

            If Megatron was left unfulfilled after this, it might shatter Rodimus’ Spark.   He didn’t want to be unfair in _even this_ , not anymore—he wanted to stand with Megatron as **_equals_** in everything.

 

            **/needneed _MINE_ wanthotdesire _LOVE_ \**

 

            Feeling that sudden intense jumble of emotions from Megatron’s field come heavily crashing into his, Rodimus gave a strangled cry as his body arched and the back of his head bonked the top of Megatron’s helm.   The flame-colored mech felt his valve clench, all hot and tight and then rush free to the intense overload, charges of yellow-and-red lightning rippling across his frame, with his spike blasting silvery transfluid onto the wall in front of him.

            _That transfluid wasn’t all his own._

            **_It didn’t all come completely from his own spike._**

            Rodimus felt Megatron press hard against his frame, the bulkier body shuddering heavily and a deep moan buried in the center of his spoiler.  It made him really happy, that they were _both_ able to reach overload and satisfaction, as he stood there beneath Megatron’s familiar weight and listened to their cooling fans roar and the soft hiss of the showerhead’s mist-like dispensation of cleansing fluid.

            **_Mine._**

**_Love._ **

            Rodimus felt both of those emotions, possession and love, in Megatron’s field as they raced towards the climax together.   The younger mech swallowed a deep incycle of air and mist.   He’d _never_ had anyone truly want him like that, not for more than a night or two.   Megatron stuck with him since they got placed into this alternative universe—since that day at the space mall.   A _few months now_ and the older mech had been patient—had worked towards actually proving there was _more than lust_ driving him.   If Megatron had merely just **_said_** those words, Rodimus might even still doubt a possible “ _good future_ ” of them together—because Megatron was an expert at using words to persuade people of things.   But it was _in his EM field_ —the field he made the older mech swear he would open up with honestly if they _ever_ did anything intimate.   His EM field _couldn’t lie_ , especially not in a moment like this, when all pretenses were abandoned—emotions could be hidden, they could be layered to hide or seem to express specific other emotions.   But if that emotion of “ _love_ ” was in Megatron’s field right at this moment……….. _then it was absolutely real_.

            Megatron was _really_ in love with him.

            **_WITH HIM._**

**_WITH HOT ROD OF NYON………..WITH RODIMUS OF NYON._ **

            He’d finally done something that Optimus Prime had _never ever_ been able to do.

            He _conquered_ Megatron’s Spark.

            Rodimus began to cry, even as joy and happiness swirled out into his EM field, embracing and caressing against Megatron’s satisfied and neutral field.   This was Megatron of Tarn here with him……………miner, gladiator, poet, leader, tyrant and captain.

            _Megatron of Tarn was in love with an unknown little mech from a broken city on Cybertron, **he was in love with Rodimus of Nyon.**_

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            The _Lost Light_ had quantum jumped back to a place they’d already mapped on their astronavigation charts.   Even though this was a universe that had some similarities to their own, they had chosen to abandon all the astronavigational data from their own universe and completely remap everything.   This was something that thrilled those who craved new places to explore and discover.

            Rodimus had just come to take his shift on the bridge and accepted the datapads and brief rundown of the shift from Thunderclash.   The flame-colored mech was in an absolutely good mood and nothing was going to ruin his “ _secret_ ” discovery of the mech who had been courting him the past couple months.

            “We did get a request for assistance,” Thunderclash answered.   “I asked them to send us all the data for the request, so that we could review it and decide if it’s possible for us to assist.   Though I know you’re going to do it anyways.”

            “It’s not life-threatening, is it?”  Rodimus asked, though clearly it must not have been an emergency or Thunderclash would’ve decided to have taken care of it while he was on-shift.

            He and Thunderclash were a lot alike.  They both tried to help all who asked for help.   Rodimus knew that Thunderclash had done _almost everything_ in his lifetime—from being a medic to being a quantum mechanic.   But his sense of compassion was a big part of who Thunderclash was and that was something that Rodimus had in common with him.

            “It doesn’t appear to be.   We were in this system before and they had heard about some of the things we did to assist on one of their neighbor’s worlds, so they reached out to us when they got the readings of our ship nearby,” the heroic old Autobot chuckled.  “It looks like they want us to ferry their crown prince to this other world to attend his own wedding—they’re unifying their worlds via a marriage.   If we _weren’t_ here, they would’ve had to send massive military along with him.   However, the crown prince is adamant that he doesn’t want all the excessive attention, because he feels it might just draw more undue attention to him and his travels.  Plus the massive entourage might leave defenses down on his world.”

            Rodimus nodded.   He understood that sometimes it was better to just travel incognito if you were that kind of high and important individual.   As he listened to Thunderclash speak, he realized that he didn’t feel the heroic Autobot’s field leaking all around him, like most of the others on the bridge.   It was a little bit weird.  Maybe _that_ was why he couldn’t get an accurate reading of him a few hours ago outside of his hab suite?   He’d attributed it to Megatron using his own EM field to “ _protect_ ” Rodimus’ sensitive sensor net, but what if Thunderclash had that same sensor net and had medical training?

            “Are you all right, Rodimus, you’ve been staring at me………….?”  Thunderclash asked, curiously.   “ ** _Oh_** _.  I see._    No, don’t worry.   No one told me, if _that’s_ what you’re wondering—I could just tell that you had that emotional sensitivity.   One of my closest friends is Ratchet, so I have a very good idea about medics and the medical field.   I figured the very least I could do is make you a little more comfortable around here by keeping my own field in—as, honestly, _any_ good mech or femme should do.”

            “ _Thank Primus_.   Sorry that you have to put up with this silliness, Thunderclash, but First Aid says it’ll probably be a long time before I manage to tamper down the sensitivity,” Rodimus said, softly, thankful that the old hero was also keeping his voice low, so as not to broadcast Rodimus’ sensitive situation to the others on the bridge.

            “Spark-bonding _may_ help the situation,” Thunderclash said, nodding and smiling down at Rodimus.   “If your relationship gets that far, anyways, but at least you’ve found someone who can adjust to your situation—that’s very important in any kind of a relationship.”

            “He’s a keeper, that’s for sure,” the flame-colored mech chuckled and then wished the old hero a good rest-cycle and sat down in the captain’s chair to read the report.   As he looked at the request—he saw the crown prince would still have a small entourage, even being escorted and protected by the _Lost Light_ crew.   There were about seven people besides the crown prince himself.

            The species was smaller than a Cybertronian, but larger than many organic species they’d often encountered.   They were at least as tall as most of the mini-bot type, so probably around Swerve and Tailgate’s heights.  They were tall and thin with one pair of legs and two pairs of arms, therefore four-armed.   Their skin was a dark blue and they all had black hair, no hair color variation in the species.   There were also vestigial wings of some sort from their shoulderblades, so they tended to wear upper-body clothing that had slits in the back for these vestigial wings.   The vestigial wings were very small, not of a feathered-type or a leathered-type, but it looked as if it would mostly resemble that of an insect on many organic worlds.   Their faces were long and narrow, with the lower denta having two long fangs that protruded from the lips, and optics that were very much like an insect’s.   They apparently spoke with a tone at a higher pitch than most species, so it might sound a little shrill to Cybertronian audials.

            “Are you looking over the request?”  A familiar voice said, coming up behind him.

            “ _Hey Mags!_ ”  Rodimus said, brightly, tilting his head up to look at Ultra Magnus looming behind him.   “ _Yeah_.   It looks like it’ll take about two or three days to travel between the two planetary systems.  I mean, we _could_ quantum jump, but………….maybe it’s best we don’t abuse that for such a short distance,” the flame-colored mech chuckled warmly.   “Getting a compensation of local currency is _always_ a good thing!”   He laughed.   “Can you prepare a couple of rooms near each other?   I’m guessing at least two—the crown prince will probably need his own quarters.   But it might be best to go with three, in case the entourage staff needs separate rooms for some reason or another.”

            “I shall go do that right now,” the tall red-white-blue mech responded, nodding down at Rodimus.

            Rodimus made a ship-wide announcement that they were going to take on a group of guests and see them to a destination in the next system.   He adamantly said that **_EVERYONE_** — _especially Whirl_ —should be polite to the guests for the short few days they’d be on the ship.  Rodimus even made sure to impress the fact that the primary guest was royalty on his own world—so he’d better be treated with respect or everyone not treating their guests with such respect would have rivet duty on the hull **_for the next two solar years_**.

            Then the young mech had communications opened with the planet to say they’d take on the request and they’d prepare accommodations for the short journey.   After he’d gotten all the important delegations out of the way, he relaxed himself and reveled in his good mood—and then tried to think of how to properly greet a crowned prince of a species he didn’t even know and how to be polite and not accidentally offend them!

**Author's Note:**

> To quote the comic this came from: "We've achieved something!" :)


End file.
